


The Texts

by mrsmischief



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Professor Tom, Sex, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:30:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsmischief/pseuds/mrsmischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Hiddleston has to be away from you for the weekend, but he begins to miss you. One thing leads to another, and soon the text messages you two exchange have a whole new nature...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Texts

It all started so simply. You and Tom had been forced to spend the weekend away from each other, from Friday all the way to Monday evening, as he would be taking part in a conference out of town, and you were stuck there, trying your best to finish the essay you had to write by midnight on Sunday.

Well, it wasn't as simple as you had thought it would be, anyway.

The first text message had come on Friday evening. It had been simple, just an _"I miss you"_ , and you had replied accordingly. Then, as you kept typing on your laptop, and he lying on the bed in his hotel room (as he told you at some point), the messages kept getting... naughtier. From missing you to missing you in his bed, it all happened so fast. Not that you minded, pardon me. You loved every second of it.

Then, he crossed the line, and stepped into a territory you two had never yet ventured into.

_"Touch yourself."_

Two words, and still so powerful. You felt a wave of electric current run down your spine, tingling your skin as you read his message.

 _"Where?"_ was your reply, perfected with a winking emoticon. You knew perfectly well what he meant, but teasing him was always too much fun to pass. His reply came almost instantly, and you grinned at the frustration that was obvious between the lines.

_"You know where."_

_"Do I, sir?"_

_"Yes. Where you need me the most. Where you miss me the most, so much it almost aches. Touch yourself there. Caress yourself."_

You felt yourself blush as you read his last text message. You weren't unfamiliar with dirty talk, oh no, but this was something so new and exciting... You felt the slight tingling between your legs, the way your folds got moistened, the flesh a bit swollen as the blood flowed there. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to relax yourself, while your free hand reached down tentatively, playing with the lacy fabric of your knickers, not quite touching yourself yet.

You had actually never done it alone yet. Touched yourself. When you were younger, you hadn't really had a chance, never time alone and no locked door to keep it private, either. And then you had been busy with work and your studies, until you met Tom. And with him... Well, you hadn't needed your own hands to stay satisfied.

Your phone beeped again. You picked it up, not surprised to see the text was from him.

_"Oh, and may I add: make yourself come. For me."_

You smirked as you typed the reply.

_"Only if you do the same."_

* * *

That had been your Friday evening, and Saturday continued with much the same pattern. You spent the day busy with work, nearly completing your essay, only leaving the last finishing touches for the deadline day. When the sun began to set, you lay down on your bed with a book, phone next to you. You knew you wouldn't have to wait for long.

And you didn't. You had only read a few pages, when the familiar beep sounded, almost startling you.

_"I missed you even more today."_

You raised your eyebrows at the phone, as if he could see it, and typed out your reply.

_"Why? I missed you, too."_

His next text didn't come until you had finished the chapter.

_"Because after last night all I could see was you, lying down on your bed, your hand between your legs and god, that mental image wouldn't leave me. Not even when I gave my speech at the conference... I hope you had fun."_

You laughed out loud, imagining the torture your poor professor/lover had suffered. Well, a little more couldn't make it much worse, right?

_"I did... But not as much fun as I had hoped."_

_"Why is that?"_

_"I couldn't make myself come. No matter how much I tried... No matter how wet I got myself thinking about you."_

_"Darling, that language is hardly appropriate. Not when I'm trying to read this academic bullshit, anyway."_

_"No matter how much I rubbed my clit and thrusted my own fingers inside me. They could never compare to you."_

Then your phone rang. You picked up, answering with a cheerful _hello!_. Tom didn't even bother with that.  
"Fuck, that's... You can't just say things like that."  
"You're the one who started it," you pointed out, smiling - you had missed hearing his voice. Already.  
"I know, but... Dear Jesus. I can't stop imagining that now."  
"How is that my problem? Unless you'd like me to do that now, moan your name to you on the phone?"  
"Please, no. I still have work to do."  
"On a Saturday night? Workaholic!"  
"Says the one who probably spent all weekend writing that essay."  
"Well..."  
"Exactly."  
"Was there anything you actually wanted to say?"  
"I missed hearing your voice."  
"I missed yours, too."  
"I need to go, I think," Tom said, after a pause where you both just listened to the silence and wished you were closer, able to see each other and touch each other and...  
"So do I, I still have that one task to fulfil..."  
"Keep me updated."  
"I will."

You clicked the end button, then turned to lie on your back, staring at the ceiling. You missed him, more than you would have wanted to admit. You two didn't even spend every day together, there were nights when you slept alone, and yet the fact that you would have to wait until Monday to see him felt unbearable. You closed your eyes, focusing on the memories and thoughts you had of him, and slid both of your hands down your stomach, slowly, taking your time, spreading your legs, teasing yourself.

You waited until you were sure, until you could actually almost _feel_ his lips on yours, his body against your body, skin on skin, bare flesh on flesh, and then, only then you cupped your own sex, softly massaging the sensitive nub and your wet folds. It felt good, so goddamn good, but again, as much as you tried, you couldn't quite reach the best part.  The show was left without the best song, no climax was reached, and your body and mind only  became even more frustrated than you had originally been.

And Sunday was the same. You finished your essay, spending your morning with a cup (or two, or three) of coffee and a thesaurus. Once that was done, you wandered restlessly around the empty house, not quite able to settle anywhere. You couldn't even focus on your favourite TV show, and that said _a lot_.

Finally, you went back to bed. But not to sleep, oh no. You took out your phone, beginning to re-read the messages you and Tom had exchanged, and recalling the phone call and his breathy voice. And that voice message he had left you after you had fallen asleep, the one where he breathed heavily and confessed he had been thinking of you, that way, yes, and he was right now, as well... While he touched himself. And that he was about to - to - _to!_ Ahhh...

These thoughts were almost enough to give you an orgasm without the least physical touch, so you were sure this time you would succeed. You slid off the leggings you wore at home, as well as your knickers, and let yourself go, losing yourself into the sweet rhythm your fingers moved in.

This time, you almost got there. Your toes were curling, your hips gyrating, fingers moving faster and faster as his name fell from your lips in breathy moans.  
"Tom... Oh, Tom..."  
"Yes?"

You startled, jumping up and your eyelids flying open. You turned your head to see him standing in the doorway, leaning his shoulder into the frame and grinning widely at you. You blinked. He was still there.  
"What the fuck are you doing here?" you finally stammered, eloquently as usual.  
"I took an early train back. Thought I could surprise you... But I think I surprised myself, too."

You nodded, as it all started to make sense in your head. You remembered you had once given him the spare key to your flat, since he didn't live too far away from you and it was good to have someone who had it, right? Just in case. So he had used that...  
"This was your plan all along? When you told me you'd come home late tonight, and that we'd only see each other on Monday? You knew you'd do this?"  
That smug smile was enough of an answer.  
"That might have been my plan, yes."

You shook your head, groaning as you lay back down.  
"You know, I was almost fucking _there_ before you came... I almost got myself to come."  
"I know, I was here for quite a while. Believe me, it was a lovely sight, you on that bed, moaning my name..."  
"So why did you interrupt me?" you questioned him, a little annoyed. You wouldn't have minded the orgasm.  
"Because..." he said, those gorgeous eyes darkening with lust as he finally stepped closer, "I wanted to finish you off myself."

You watched him as he moved closer to you, dropping his blazer on the floor as he reached you. He knelt down next to your bed, smiling as he stared deep into your eyes.  
"Shall we see if I have more luck with it than you?" he asked, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer to him. You giggled, but when his lips connected with the soft skin on your lower abdomen, the last fit of laughter turned into a long gasp. His soft lips skimmed down your skin, peppering small kisses all along, until they reached your thigh. His hands reached up to your hips, grabbing them firmly to keep you in place as his tongue licked a long line on your inner thigh, tickling the sensitive skin. You squirmed, fingers clawing at the bed sheets.  
"Please, Tom..."  
"Please what?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.  
"Please make me come..."

He didn't bother to answer. No, instead he kissed your clit softly at first, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves, then giving it a proper French kiss, swirling his tongue on and around it. You moaned out loud, your eyes squeezing closed. You had been so close already, so close... And now you were even closer, every second, as his warm tongue and sweet mouth caressed, licked and kissed you into oblivion.

"Tom... I..." you whimpered, a desperate attempt to tell you how close you were getting.  
"I know," he whispered, and you opened your eyes, suddenly wanting to see him there, between your thighs, so intimate and loving and hot. Your eyes met his, a connection deeper than words flowing between you in the air, in tiny electric particles, telling him exactly where you needed his touch. He obeyed the silent, wordless command, the tip of his tongue licking your relentlessly until, fucking _finally_... You threw your head back, screaming out his name as you came, hips bucking against mouth the little they could under the grasp of his hands.  
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," you cursed, panting hard as the sweet release spread all over your body in waves of warmth and happiness.

He crawled on top of you, smiling as he kissed your lips. It was a sweet kiss full of love and longing, of all the emotions you had felt when you were separated.  
"That was... Wow," you whispered, wrapping your legs around him as you continued kissing him.  
"Thank you."  
"My pleasure," he smirked, but you raised your eyebrows at him, grinding your body against him, your core rubbing the bulge that was all too evident in his trousers.  
"I think you could do with some more pleasure," you suggested, reaching your hand down to caress him through the fabric.  
"Is that so?"  
"Oh yesssss."  
"Well, darling, I am not going to resist..." he said, leaning in for another long kiss. You smiled against his lips, so happy to have him back, and where he belonged - with you. 


End file.
